Across The Channel An AU Fanfic
by Dr. H. Watson
Summary: Have you ever wondered how Voldemort's rise to power affected mainland Europe and the rest of the world? This AU fanfic follows the story of Gabrielle Delacour, from her rescue in a Triwizard task at the tender age of 14 to adulthood.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Click. Click. Click." The sound of Gabrielle's footsteps echoed through the corridor as she briskly moved from one room to the next. Her trademark red patent heels drifted through the wards, pausing as she cast her expert eyes on each patient. St Mungo's was as familiar as home to Gabrielle, and each of the many staff was greeted as a long lost friend or relative. A special warmth was saved, though, for Camille, who approached her now, waddling under the strain of her expansively swollen abdomen. As they hugged awkwardly around the unborn baby (which looked set to make an escape attempt at a moment's notice) Gabrielle laughed.

"You look _tres jolie_, sweetheart" she smiled warmly, the French in her accent unabashedly conspicuous, even after all these years. Camille beamed with pride.

"Not long now. Connor is starting to get jittery; every time I get the slightest twinge he's packing my overnight bag." Excitement twinkled in her warm, brown eyes, and there was a rosy glow in her cheeks.

Gabrielle laughed. "So he should be. It's good to see you two finally starting the family you've wanted so badly." She placed a friendly hand on Camille's shoulder, and Camille smiled again, breathing in to speak.

"Gabrielle!" called out a male voice from across the ward "The Longbottoms are here to see you" the nurse explained, indicating a tall, dark-haired man in a cardigan and his young wife, a blonde, willowy woman with mussed hair and scruffy purple robes. Wheeling round, Gabrielle smiled at the couple, and crouched down to wave at a small boy hiding behind them.

"Hiya Frank!" she cooed, as the boy's shoes suddenly became an object of avid fascination. With a laugh like the peal of a bell, she rose back to her feet, now addressing his parents. "Neville, Luna, come on through". She waved towards a glossy walnut door, which swung open silently as she indicated it.

Inside, the tiny room had all the warmth and intimacy of a cottage kitchen. It was, in fact, Gabrielle's office, and the many photographs and newspaper clippings displayed proudly in frames around the room held fond memories of friends and family. Ushering the Longbottom family inside, Gabrielle conjured up four squishy armchairs in a semi-circle around the crackling log fire.

"Please, take a seat" she purred, "I'll be with you in just a moment." As she said this and exited the room, the small boy with sandy hair and solemn eyes toddled around the room, trying to see the pictures on the wall. Unable to see any of them from such a low vantage point, he began to grizzle.

"There there now, Frank, let's not be a grumpy guts" soothed his mother in a sing-song voice, lifting him onto her hip so that he could see the pictures better. In the frame he had reached rested a pristine clipping from an old copy of "The Daily Prophet", dated from just over ten years ago. This clipping was one of Gabrielle's oldest, dating from her teenage years, and it told of the on-going Triwizard Tournament taking place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"I remember this! Neville, come and see this!" cried out Luna "It's the Triwizard Tournament!"

Frank reached out for the clipping, gurgling contentedly. "Unca Harry's all wet!" he babbled, pointing at the photo accompanying the article. Harry Potter (who stood in the foreground, with the lake behind him) was indeed dripping wet, a towel around him as he talked to Ron Weasley, who was in a similar state. To one side of the photo stood Gabrielle and her sister Fleur, also in towels, their faces telling of exhaustion, but exhilaration.

As Neville stood to examine the clipping, Gabrielle re-entered the room breezily, wand in hand. Seeing what had caught their attention, she laughed.

"Has Frank spotted me yet?" she inquired curiously. "Perhaps he wouldn't recognise me; it's such an old clipping. Anyway, how has he been?" She took a seat in one of the armchairs.

Tearing themselves away from their nostalgia, the Longbottoms also sat down.

"He seems to be taking after his father; he's so clumsy! I swear, he'd walk clear into a nest of Nargles if we took our eyes off of him for long enough!" Luna's laughter tinkled like a babbling brook, filling the tiny room.

"He burnt his hand on my wand this morning. It's why we brought him in" Neville explained uneasily "Luna put some ointment on it, but it still looks quite sore."

Reaching out and taking Frank's hand, Gabrielle examined the small black mark on his left palm. She smiled.

"Boys will be boys, as they say. Luna, you did exactly the right thing. I'll just bandage this up and you can take him home. Pop back in a few days and we'll see how it's healing up." Her tone was soft and reassuring, and with an elegant flick of her wand, bandages swathed the teensy hand. In the blink of an eye they were tied off, and the Longbottom family rose to leave.

"I was very sorry to hear about your grandmother, Neville" said Gabrielle as they turned to leave "My condolences."

Neville nodded piously, "Thanks", and led his wife and son from the office.

As silence fell in the office, Gabrielle sighed, turning back to the clipping on the wall, which she lifted down. Sitting in her armchair once more, she settled down to read it, remembering those happy, innocent days before the darkness fell…


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

_10 Years Earlier_

Gabrielle opened her eyes slowly as the arms which had been carrying her laid her on a wet, soft surface. As she scrambled to sit up, she felt the squelch of muddy grass beneath her, sticking to her bare legs. The harsh February breeze made her shiver as she turned her head wildly, desperate for a glimpse of her sister. In the distance loomed Hogwarts, a dark threatening building in the dusky light, and in front of her stood a grand white tent where Fleur stood, huddled over. She was wrapped in a foil blanket, and looked cold, but she was smiling and talking to the other champions, so Gabrielle breathed a sigh of relief. Gabrielle staggered to her feet, still a little dizzy from the ascent through the murky lake.

"Careful there!" Called out an unfamiliar male voice in a soft, Scottish accent. "Don't fall" smiled the boy, reaching out to steady Gabrielle as he approached. "Madame Pomfrey will be here soon, but you look frozen half to death! Here, take my spare quidditch robes." He continued, conjuring up a thick red and gold set of robes and draping them loosely around her bony shoulders.

"Thank you" Gabrielle squeaked timidly, the English words feeling strange and unfamiliar in her mouth. "What is your name?" she asked, looking at the boy again. He was tall; older than her, she guessed by about two years. The red and gold robes hanging around her dripping frame matched those the boy was wearing, and around his neck was draped a scarf bearing the same gold lion.

The boy's jaw fell a little, and his smile faded. "I'm so sorry, I didn't even think! I'm Oliver Wood" He said, that charming smile returning to his lips. "You must be Gabrielle, Fleur's sister? Pleasure to meet you" he held out a hand for her to shake.

"The pleasure is all mine" she mumbled shyly, shaking his proffered hand. His grip was warm and strong, and a faint pink blush crept across her porcelain skin as the oversized robe began to slip from around her shoulders.

"Where are my manners? Let me help you with that" Oliver spoke softly, releasing her hand and catching the robe as it fell. Placing it around her shoulders once more, he pulled it tighter around her, fastening it in place with a glistening badge he had removed from his own robe. The warmth was tingling in Gabrielle's arms and legs, and just as she was trying to pluck up the courage to break the silence, a tall, birdlike creature in a nurse's uniform saved her the trouble.

"Wood! The poor girl is traumatised, stop flirting and help me get her in out of this cold!" She barked, indicating the large, white tent, which billowed in the wind. Perhaps to call it a tent would be a little unkind – it was more like a marquis than a tent, grand and imposing in its stature. As Gabrielle followed her into the tent, she was greeted by a crushing embrace from Fleur, her sister.

"Gabrielle, I am so sorry! I was getting so worried about you! After I met zee Grindylow zey would not let me go back for you!" she gushed, her English tainted by her swift speech and strong accent. Seeing the robes around Gabrielle and noticing Oliver hovering in the background awkwardly, she fixed his gaze sternly in hers. "And oo is zees?" She asked her sister quietly, linking arms with her.

Gabrielle was unable to speak, instead releasing a small string of incomprehensible erms and ahs from her lips. As she turned redder and redder, Oliver stepped forward, extending a hand confidently for Fleur to shake. "Oliver Wood. It's a pleasure to meet you" he smiled, his lilting accent giving a jovial and light-hearted feel to his speech.

Fleur shook his hand uncertainly, looking again at Gabrielle, who smiled through her blush as she managed to force out an explanation. "Oliver's been looking after me." She said, and at this, Fleur's handshake became warm and sincere.

"The pleasure eez all mine. Thank you for looking after Gabrielle, she eez my world." She beamed, her jilted vowel sounds somehow making her seem all the more honest.

Just then, Rita Skeeter appeared with her grim, toothleShe was more than a little comical in appearance, in a vulgar green ensemble which almost made your eyeballs scream. She had paired this lurid shade of lime with a towering hat of black feathers.

"Champions and their rescued loved ones, photo time! The staff are assembled outside waiting for you, chop chop!" Her grin stretched from ear to ear like a Cheshire cat's – she knew a good story when she saw one.

"When do you leave?" Oliver was suddenly at Gabrielle's side, speaking quietly with a sense of urgency. He knew there were only moments in which to say their goodbyes.

"Tomorrow - I must return to my lessons at Beauxbatons, I'm underage." She blurted, more than a little surprised at his behaviour. "Oliver, I really need to go" she mumbled, turning to go.

"I'll write to you" he smiled, catching her arm and turning her to look into her eyes. "Don't forget me, will you?" he kissed her cheek, and without another word was gone, camouflaged by the crowd of spectators he had dashed off into.

Joining her sister outside, Gabrielle stood patiently as they prepared to take the photograph.

"So what was all that about, sis?" Fleur asked, switching into their native French to allow them to speak freely.

"I don't know what you're talking about, he was just being nice." replied Gabrielle with a blush, not looking her in the eye. As they spoke, Rita Skeeter was working her way through the group, taking their foil blankets, robes and other various coverings and giving them all dog-eared towels instead, claiming it was for dramatic effect. With shaking hands, Gabrielle undid the Quidditch Captain badge Olive had used to fasten the robes around her, reluctantly handing them, badge and all, over to Rita, who gave her a nasty grin "We'll get them back to you shortly, don't worry girls".

The effect of giving the group the towels was indeed dramatic. In an instant, teeth were chattering as the wet champions and loved ones felt the bite of the wind once again.

"Say Blubbering Humdinger!" cried the photographer.

"Blubbering humdinger!" cried the masses, as the camera went off with an almighty flash.

After recovering Oliver's spare robes from the pile where Rita had so casually cast everyone's coats and blankets, Gabrielle tried to find him, weaving in and out of crowds. But it was getting dark, and he was nowhere to be found, so with a sigh of resignation she followed Madame Olympe and the others back to the dormitories to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

It was early when Fleur greeted Gabrielle with a gentle shake. Th view from the window of Ravenclaw tower was one of total stillness; even the birds were yet to waken from the heavy slumber of the humid night. Gabrielle stirred, the red light of dawn forcing her heavy-lidded eyes open.

"Wake up, bubba, you must leave soon" Fleur spoke softly (in French, of course). "And before you do, you must take back those robes. I've found a house elf to show you the way."

Gabrielle shook her head, sitting up groggily. "Let the house elf return them, then" she yawned, "I'm too tired to go traipsing round the school."

At that moment, a young house elf with a keen grin and sparkling yellow eyes appeared.

"Miss Delacour" she squeaked, bowing to Gabrielle "If you'd care to follow me?"

Gabrielle looked embarrassed "But I'm still in my pyjamas! Whit if someone sees me?"

The house elf chuckles. "Miss would indeed look strange wandering the school in her pyjamas." She agreed jovially, snapping her fingers. In an instant, Gabrielle was in her Beauxbatons uniform, cape and all.. She stood, smoothing out te creases in her skirt, and faced Fleur.

"Do I really have to?" she mumbled in a whiny voice, her eyes on her feet. A rosy red blossomed in her cheeks.

"Yes. It's courtesy." Fleur said primly, handing the robes, which had been cleaned, pressed and folded, to Gabrielle. "And don't forget this!" she added, placing the shiny Quidditch Captain badge on top of the robes.

"But he'll be asleep anyway! It's just rude to go in the dorm when everyone's asleep!" she squeaked, putting down the robes on a nearby armchair. "I'll write a note or something."

Fleur rolled her eyes frustratedly. "Honestly, Gabrielle…" she sighed, and began muttering under her breath in rapid French as she made Gabrielle's bed neatly.

Grabbing a scrap of parchment and a quill from her bag, Gabrielle sat down. After a pause for thought, she simply wrote "Merci Beaucoups! Gabrielle xx", in a loopy, flourishing script. She then pinned the note to Oliver's robes with his badge, and handed them to the house elf. Looking first at Gabrielle, and then at Fleur, the house elf bowed again with a smile and vanished with a crack.

Gabrielle readied herself to leave Hogwarts slowly, with a huge amount of tedium. Her clothes were repeatedly folded and unfolded, packed and unpacked, as she tried to decide how best to fit everything into her small case. Eventually, she was ready, and as she left the front doors of the grand castle behind, the sun began its ascent through the heavens.

As she reached the edge of the forest, she came across her companions. A party of ten underage wizards and witches were assembled at the carriage with a dumpy teacher with a horsey face, waiting to depart. A tall, willowy girl with chestnut hair and a deep tan smiled, coming forward and embracing Gabrielle. "Gabby, finally! Always last to arrive, aren't you?" she laughed.

Gabrielle laughed as well. "Sorry to keep everyone waiting! Hey, Camille." She hugged her best friend warmly.

Madame Olympe at that moment arrived with the Hogwarts gamekeeper, Rubeus Hagrid, and the horses.

"Chop, chop! There is a schedule to keep, young ones, and you are expected for your afternoon lessons!" Madame Olympe's voice was rich and fruity, her "r"'s long and rolled. As she spoke, Hagrid was fastening the horses into their harnesses. "Professor Deraux will travel in the front with the driver" she smiled, and the plump female professor obliged by climbing up beside the driver of the carriage.

The students clambered obediently into the back of the carriage. Camille sat next to Gabrielle, who immediately realised that she was not in for a quiet journey.

"Fleur says you met someone? I want to hear everyone! What's his name? How old is he? Is he cute?" she whispered, rattling off on a reel of questions which seemed to have no end. Gabrielle blushed. It was going to be a very long journey…


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Camille DeSainteCroix was a fourteen year old student at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. A renowned beauty, Camille inherited her glossy chestnut hair and willowy frame from her mother, and her rash behaviour and direct manner of speaking from her father. Now orphaned, it was expected that Camille, whose family were from a renowned and prestigious pure blooded ancestry, would keep high company. In fact, it was expected that she would marry into a powerful, rich and (most importantly) proudly pure blooded family.

None of this seemed to matter to Gabrielle, her best friend since childhood. Being of mixed ascent herself, including a hint of Veela, Gabrielle had over the years introduced Camille to potential boyfriends from almost every background imaginable. While none of them had taken, Gabrielle's influence had luckily kept Camille's feet (and thus her ego) firmly grounded. In return, Camille had helped timid Gabrielle to come out of her shell a little. And while they both got each other into trouble almost endlessly, it was generally agreed that the inseparable duo were a very good, if deadly, combination.

And now, as they climbed sleepily from the carriage, it was Camille who was at Gabrielle's side to walk through the front doors of the palace.

"You'll be okay without your sister next year, you know. You've got me, after all. And who could want more than that?" grinned Camille, putting her arm around her. "Seriously though, I know you're a bit worried, but it'll be ok. And Fleur will do great at Gringotts" she said reassuringly.

Gabrielle smiled softly. "Thank you" she mumbled, a little embarrassed. Just then an unfamiliar face caught her eye. "Who's that?" she asked Camille quietly as they entered a shimmering ballroom, filled with glass chandeliers and long, elegant dining tables. Standing a short distance from them was a tall, slim boy, with flaming copper hair and pale, freckly skin.

"No idea" shrugged Camille, in an apathetic tone. The boy was of no interest to her, and she didn't plan on spending time finding out who he was. The conversation was closed.

The school seemed strangely empty without the Triwizard delegates. The bright corridors were still thronged with people, and yet they seemed still and silent. It was almost as if the vibrance had been sucked from the school, and the grey February sky did nothing to appease this. As the group made their way through the busy corridors to the kitchens for a late lunch, those passing them by whispered to one another and watched them solemnly.

Sat in the warm, rustic glow of the kitchens, Camille mentioned this to Gabrielle. "It was almost scary, did you see the way people looked at us as we got back? It's all very strange. It's almost as if something happened while we were away."

Gabrielle shrugged "I'm sure everything's fine. We'll see soon enough what's happening, if anything is."

Just then, a lanky man with dusty, unkempt robes, leathery skin and owlish eyebrows came in. "Amelia Deraux?" he said uncertainly, approaching the dumpy female professor sat among the small huddle of sleepy students.

"Yes" she smiled, standing up and extending a hand for the man to shake. She was easily a foot shorter than him, but her confidence was not shaken by this. "What can I do to help you?"

"My name is Hugh McFadden" he said, shaking her hand. His French was faltering, and his accent unfamiliar. "The Dublin Ministry sent me to talk to you about your nephew, Connor McCloskey?"

Professor Deraux's brow furrowed, and she nodded solemnly. "Yes of course, come take a seat. Would you prefer to speak in English?" she asked politely, leading Hugh over to a wooden table and pulling up a chair for him.

Hugh laughed nervously "French is just fine, but thank you for the offer" he said, twitching a little as he took a seat.

"Not at all. What can I do for you today, Monsieur McFadden?" she asked, taking a seat opposite him and lowing her voice a little, conscious of the curious students a short distance away.

"We are a little concerned about your decision to enrol Connor here at Beauxbatons" he said nervously, clearly struggling to phrase himself. "We have, as you requested, given him the benefit of the doubt, but your sister has never been the most responsible of mothers and his magic is... shall we say, a little lacking. And we haven't even begun to discuss his poor grasp of french."

Professor Deraux was clearly not impressed, but she remained silent, waiting to see what the rat-like social worker would propose.

"We would like to ask if you would be willing to be a secondary guardian to Connor. You clearly have his best interests at heart, and while we know he is yet to come into any magical abilities as such, you were the only close family we could easily track down."

Professor Deraux stood almost immediately. "You are proposing that a boy with no known magical abilities and almost no French in a French magical academy should become my own personal responsibility?" she was clearly furious. "This is lunacy. Where is Jeanette? I want to see her for myself!"

"Ms Deraux… The boy is already here, I'm afraid. We arrived three days ago, while you were abroad with the students, and he really does seem quite taken with the place. I'm not sure it's entirely fair to uproot him again after so little…" In his fear of the professor, the man's rat-like qualities became almost mousey, his twitching agitated rather than simply nervous and his eyes wide.

"Idiot!" she hissed "How dare they bring him here without my express prior permission to do so?" Her expression then softened a little, and she sighed. "Still, he is my sister's son, and he is here now…" she pushed her chair under the table. "Very well, I suppose he can stay on a trial basis. But you shall have to clear it with my boss. Come, take me to him now" she commanded, and Hugh, who had relaxed noticeably at her sudden change of heart, led her off in a hurry.

"I suppose that's the mystery boy then? Professor Deraux's nephew?" Gabrielle asked Camille, who nodded.

"I suppose so" she sighed, still rather apathetic about the whole thing. "C'mon, let's go to the dorms. I'm knackered."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Camille and Gabrielle awoke the next day to find things still looking quite as grim as when they had gone to bed. The dormitories, which were white and plain, usually seemed airy and almost ethereal. But the eerie quiet which had settled across the school without the Triwizard delegates made the white feel stark and cold, like a hospital room. Outside, the sky was still laden with grey clouds, which almost seemed to sink under the weight of the impending rainfall.

"Come on Gabby. Let's get to breakfast" said Camille softly, slipping into the long white skirt and pale blue blouse that made up the daily uniform at Beauxbatons – the famous blue coats were actually only for formal occasions.

Gabrielle sighed a little sulkily. The weather was miserable, her timetable for the day was dismal and she was not exactly feeling her perkiest. She rolled her eyes as she lolloped out of bed. "Double History of Magic and then an assessment in Household Charms… ah, the joys…" she grumbled. Household Charms was very much the bane of Gabrielle's education – Beauxbatons was a somewhat old-fashioned school, and so all the young ladies were required to learn all the little enchantments that made a good wife into a good housewife. So while Gabrielle spent hours each week learning the ins and outs of threading needles and fixing broken crockery, the boys got to spend their time playing Quidditch. While this was the only big difference between the genders at Beauxbatons, it was one which Gabrielle had always felt very sorely – and the damage it caused to her pride had not exactly been lessened by the discovery that no such disparity existed at Hogwarts.

As an orphan, however, Camille had found Household Charms to be a rather useful subject – in fact, she rather enjoyed it. Being able to do little bits and pieces around the house made her feel that she was independent, rather than just alone.

"Oh come on, Gabby, it's just darning charms today. Fixing a pair of Quidditch robes is hardly a challenge, and you'd find it so much easier if you didn't spend so much of the lessons sulking." Camille laughed, throwing gabby a clean skirt and shirt from the trunk at the end of her bed.

"I need to go write a letter to Aunt Eglentine to tell her I'm home, so get ready and then we can head down to breakfast."

The banquet hall seemed a little brighter this morning than it had been the previous night at dinner. Overnight, the decision had been taken that some of the unsuccessful Triwizard delegates who were less promising academically would be returning to their studies imminently – and so with another two dozen girls set to arrive back by lunchtime, the whole school was trying to figure out who they would be.

"Gabby, I wish I could say it was a surprise to see you back so soon" smirked a tall, raven-haired girl. "But in all honesty, you were always going to be coming back in the dunce coach, weren't you?"

Angelica Honeydew, the girl in question, was sixteen years old and stood a full two inches taller than either Gabrielle or Camille. Her daddy was very high up in the French Ministry, and so she came as a package deal complete with snivelling cronies. Today's hangers-on cackled nastily as the group swept past, leaving a slight whiff of an expensive and unpleasant perfume hanging in the air behind them.

Just as Gabrielle began to relax at her departure, Angelica turned back. "Oh, by the way, there was a letter for you. The poor owl was bedraggled – Professor Deraux reckons it must have struggled with the journey across the channel. Such a shame."

Gabrielle looked up at Angelica, knowing what was going to come next. "Where is the letter now?" she asked quietly, desperately willing herself to keep calm.

"Well, I thought the poor owl could do with drying off by the fire – it looked like it might catch an awful chill if its feathers stayed so wet. I just wish I'd taken the parchment off its leg first – it was so unfortunate to let it get singed like that. You can have what's left though" Angelica simpered in a syrupy sweet voice as she handed over a crumpled, blackened parchment envelope. And without another word she was gone in a swish of white linen.

"I can't believe her sometimes. Gabby, if she'd done that to one of my letters I wouldn't take it. You let her walk all over you just because daddy's in the ministry! Honestly I just don't know how you do it, I'd have hit her by now! And you should! Maybe it'll teach her a lesson!"

Camille's temper had well and truly been roused. She had been known to go off on a rant like this many a time before, and usually it was Gabrielle's job to calm her down with a few well-chosen words. But today Camille's temper could wait.

Gabby gingerly opened the envelope, nervous of it crumbling to ash in her hands. A soft moan of frustration escaped her as she found that, yes, the parchment within was in just the same state. But one small scrap had escaped the fire's clutches – a large drop of wax, which had presumably been holding the envelope sealed, had affixed itself around the bottom right corner of the page, keeping the fire from reaching it. Peeling it off tenderly, Gabrielle sighed. Only two words were visible of what had been apparently a rather long letter:

"Yours, Oliver".


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

_6 months later_

Chateau Delacour was a grand, imposing stone manor, set in the small wizarding community of Gifford's Peak, where the giant Gifford was rumoured to have been born. The house itself was up in the hills, a small distance from the town, and was filled with grand windows and dark wood.

The lady of the house, Apolline Delacour was known for being as elegant as she was beautiful, and both of her daughters seemed set to follow in her footsteps in all respects but one: they both had a stubborn determination to be independent women, rather than settling for running an orderly household.

Apolline's eldest daughter, Fleur, had just graduated from Beauxbatons Academy and taken a job at Gringott's Bank in London. She was due to leave any day now, and her family had agreed to accompany her to London.

"Fleur! Gabrielle! Breakfast is ready!" Apolline's voice echoing up the staircase heralded the start of the day, and it was accompanied by a warm, welcoming smell of bacon frying.

At the top of the staircase, two of the heavy wooden doors opened almost simultaneously. Out of one emerged Fleur, dressed and ready for the day ahead; and after a short delay, Gabrielle shuffled out of the other, her hair dishevelled and her eyes barely open.

"Gabby, how will you cope at school next year without me to wake you up?" laughed Fleur teasingly as the two girls walked down the stairs.

"Do I smell bacon?" Gabrielle was talking more to herself than anyone, still too freshly woken to hear what her sister was saying. She pushed her hair back from her face and entered the kitchen.

"Good morning, mama!" she said brightly, kissing her mother on the cheek. On the large oak table at one end of the kitchen was a dish laden with bacon and sausages; and at the other end of the kitchen a panful of eggs were frying themselves on the stove. "Thank you for the breakfast. Is there any post for me today?"

Apolline laughed "Always this obsession with the post, Gabrielle. That boy writes too often. You are too young to get so caught up with him. The post hasn't arrived yet, though."

Gabrielle looked a little put out, but said nothing, simply sitting down to her breakfast. She poured herself an orange juice and began to eat.

"Leave her be, mama, what harm can come from a few letters? And he seemed nice enough." Fleur said coyly, both trying to fix the argument and continue the discussion of Oliver. But neither Apolline nor Gabrielle were taking the bait, and so the conversation was closed.

At that moment, their father entered the room. "Good morning, all! How did everyone sleep?" he asked with a grin, kissing Apolline and ruffling Gabrielle's already messy hair. Not waiting for a response, he opened the window just in time to let the owl delivering the morning paper in, before sitting down to read it.

"The post!" smiled Gabrielle, as the delivery owl was followed by the family tawny owl. A bundle of letters dropped to the table, and she fished through it before extracting two addressed to herself. She opened the first and began to read.

_Gabby,_

_Please tell your mother Aunt Eglentine is delighted at her suggestion! She thinks Diagon Alley would be a great treat for me before term starts again, and so if you can collect me on Monday as already suggested I can buy my school supplies and we can head back to school together._

_How are you? Things are deathly dull here. Aunt E has found a hoard of pixies in the loft and has spent all summer trying to get rid of them. The daft old thing is driving me crazy. Never live with your great-aunt, Gabby; It's a recipe for disaster! _

_Have you heard anything from Oliver? I don't suppose he'll be going to Diagon Alley now he's finished school, but there's got to be some sort of gossip, huh? _

_We bumped into Prof. Deraux in town the other day. She seems... different... somehow. I don't know how, but I think it must be related to her sister. Ever since the Quidditch World Cup final, she's been twitchy and nervous... but I don't know, maybe I'm just being paranoid. _

_Aunt E says she needs a hand with the dinner, so I'd better go. See you soon!_

_Camille_

"Mama, Camille says if we can still pick her up she will join us on Monday" Gabby smiled, putting the letter to one side. She opened the second.

_Mmselle Delacour,_

_We are as always, eagerly awaiting the start of the new school term and would be more than pleased if you could join us. Please find enclosed your subject list and equipment and ensure to join the carriages on September 1__st__ at 12 noon in the usual location._

_Sincerely,_

_Emmeline Deraux,_

_Deputy Headmistress_

"Mama, my letter from school is here." She said with a smile, handing it over to her mother. Apolline smiled and nodded, looking the list up and down before folding it and putting it into her pocket.

Her father looked up "No word from your young man today, then? Ah well, plenty more fish in the sea my love."

Gabrielle's face twisted at this. It was true that she had been expecting a letter, but surely it didn't mean anything that it hadn't come yet. She left the room silently, sulkily returning up the stairs and to her room. She threw herself onto the bed in a sulk.

She and Oliver had been exchanging weekly letters for over six months now, and while they had yet to see one another again, there was no doubt in either of my minds as to what this was: they were a couple. Oliver's latest letter had been due on Monday, and now it was Friday - so why hadn't he written?

Just then there was a tap at her window. She looked up and was shocked to see none other than Oliver himself, hovering outside the window on his broomstick! He was in a pair of royal blue robes she had never seen before. Gabrielle had to stifle a squeal of joy as she opened the window.

"Oliver, what are you doing here?" she whispered, ushering him in.

He laughed "I just had to come tell you myself. I got a job!" he grinned. "Puddlesmere United want me on the reserves team! It's not exactly top gold or anything, I'm just a reserve, but still! What do you think?" he turned around to show her the new robes.

She smiled. "That's brilliant, Oliver. But I'll be in London next week anyway, you didn't have to come all this way. What if my parents hear you?"

Oliver looked at her with a cheeky grin and hugged her "I wanted to come. And so what if they hear me? All I'm doing is visiting my girlfriend, isn't that allowed?"

Gabrielle's face lit up. It was the first time Oliver had called her his girlfriend face to face and it felt amazing. "Of course it is! But you really can't stay, my parents will kill me if they find you here without their permission!"

He nodded, "I understand. Just promise you'll write me when you get to London? I want to see you, properly." He smiled and kissed her gently before jumping back out of the window onto his waiting broom. "See you soon" he said softly, as he flew away.

Gabrielle sighed a little and sat down on her bed. She had to write to Camille, and fast...


End file.
